


Quick Study

by mistyzeo



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Barebacking, Chair Sex, Community: kink_bingo, Invisibility, M/M, Telepathic Sex, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-26
Updated: 2011-07-26
Packaged: 2017-10-21 22:48:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistyzeo/pseuds/mistyzeo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midnight, and Charles can't sleep. Erik isn't waiting for him, exactly, but he's in the study all the same, drinking Charles's brandy and messing with Charles's ordered mind. Also he seems determined to test the limits of Charles's powers, especially when Raven is wandering the halls as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Quick Study

**Author's Note:**

> INVISIBLE SEX. That is all. Fills the "teasing" square on my kink bingo. Almost wrote "kink bongo." How awesome would that be.
> 
> P.S. I'm fully prepared for no one to read this. I just. Gah, this fandom! This pairing. *rolls around in it*

Charles knew he should have more self-control than this, should have been able to resist his own insane desire for danger and thrills. But he’d been buzzing with energy, wound up by the day’s training successes, and sleep had been elusive. He’d lain awake for hours, replaying fragments of the day in his mind, the looks on their faces, and finally given it up as useless around one.

He’d put on his dressing gown and crept out of his room, feeling like a child doing something he shouldn’t, and had to remind himself that he owned this estate, and he was entitled to slip down to his own study any time he pleased. Even if it was the middle of the night. A glass of brandy might do him good.

Someone else was in the study, he realized as he descended the stairs, and by the time he was pushing open the door he knew it was Erik. Erik was sitting in the chair closest to the nearly-dead fire, a single lamp at his elbow, and a glass already in his hand. He was wearing what he’d gone to bed in, just an undershirt and pants, and he looked strangely soft around the edges.

Erik looked up when Charles came in, flashed him a tired little smile, and looked back to the embers.

“Can’t sleep?” Charles asked, rather unnecessarily, because not only was Erik sitting before him raising a sardonic eyebrow, he could feel without trying the phantom memory of Erik staring at his ceiling, frustrating, feeling the clock tick hours past.

Erik shook his head, dislodging Charles’s wandering mind, and said, “Afraid not.”

“Anything in particular?” Charles asked, and sat down on the sofa across from him.

Giving him a fondly irritated glance, Erik said, “Nothing I need to be interrogated about,” and finished the brandy. Charles held out his hand for the glass and refilled it. He took a sip before he handed it back, and gained himself another private smile.

He stayed quiet as Erik drank the second— perhaps the third— glass, content to share his company and glad enough that Erik seemed to feel the same way. He contemplated their abandoned chess game, working out a few future moves, and then Erik set the glass down decisively and stood up.

Charles looked up at him, expecting to bid him goodnight, but Erik was gazing at him with thinly veiled desire in his eyes and mind, and Charles felt his pulse quicken and his cock twitch. “Oh,” he said, instead of _Sleep well,_ and leaned back on the sofa.

Erik fit so neatly into his lap, Charles thought, reaching up to thread his fingers through Erik’s hair and pull him close for a kiss, it was almost like he’d been made for it. Erik settled himself comfortably astride Charles’s thighs and kissed back deeply, licking Charles’s mouth open and working his way systematically inside. It made Charles shiver, heating all over, the way he took control and took Charles apart.

It wasn’t new, this thing between them, but it felt stronger now, deeper, and Charles almost didn’t want to think about it. He had to consider the recruits, and Shaw, and everything going on around them, and somehow that was easier than analyzing the way Erik’s smile made his heart pound, and the touch of Erik’s hands made him shake, and even a casual glance in his direction made him blush.

Erik was pushing the dressing gown off of his shoulders, and unbuttoning his pyjama top. Charles shrugged it off his shoulders and returned the favor, disrobing Erik as quickly as he could. The hard muscle of Erik’s chest was glorious in the low, warm light of the lamp and the fire, and Charles ran his hands up it with a sigh of appreciation.

Breaking the kiss, Erik looked down at Charles and smirked, rocking their hips together so that Charles could feel the hard length of his cock, barely contained by the cotton of his pants. Charles gripped Erik’s arse hard, fingers digging in, and Erik let out a little moan and rocked them together more fiercely.

“Think a quick shag will help you sleep?” Charles asked, sounding breathless and ridiculous.

“It can’t hurt,” Erik replied, and kissed him again briefly. “But do you think we should— move, perhaps? To your room?”

Charles grinned despite himself, and tightened his hold on Erik’s body. “Why?” he asked. “It’s the middle of the night, my dear.”

Erik’s eyes narrowed, but he relaxed a little in Charles’s arms, and said, “Well, in that case.” He kissed Charles again, more softly, and Charles slid his hands up Erik’s bare back.

He could feel Erik’s mind like a warm, pulsing glow inside his own without even trying. It was hard enough not to read him while they played chess— he couldn’t tell if that was because Erik projected more strongly than most, or because Charles was simply so fascinated by him that he was always attuned, always listening— but with him close and real in Charles’s lap, Charles could feel his shifting emotion, his rising arousal, his ever-present low current of determined anger tempered for the moment by lust and… was that fondness?

Charles broke the kiss, caught off guard, and ducked his head to Erik’s neck before Erik could see the look on his face. He started to bite at the column of Erik’s throat, and at the same time curled his fingers around Erik’s cock through the fabric of his pants. Erik groaned, letting his head drop back, and Charles felt a surge of heat from him as he gave him a few firm squeezes. His own cock was hard against Erik’s arse, and Erik rocked against him deliberately, spreading his knees farther apart and letting Charles’s cock really dig into him. Charles muffled a groan against Erik’s bare shoulder.

“Get up,” Charles murmured, pushing suddenly at Erik’s hips. This was all well and good, but they couldn’t actually draw it out. Besides, the images he was getting from Erik’s head had them in a rather different orientation.

Erik stood, and Charles nudged him right back into the chair he’d been sitting in, and dropped trou. Erik’s smile widened, and he spread his hands, offering his lap in return for the use of Charles’s. Charles went to his knees, the carpet warm and a little scratchy, and pulled Erik’s pants down around his thighs. Erik’s prick was fully hard, rising stiff from the curls of hair between his thighs, and his balls were heavy and tight already. Charles cradled them in his hand, wrapped the other around Erik’s cock, and took the tip of him into his mouth.

Erik sighed, resting his hand on the back of Charles’s head, and Charles relaxed and took him in deeper. Erik’s cock bumped hard against the back of his throat, stretching his lips and making his jaw ache, and Erik let out a little noise of surrender. Charles could feel his pleasure like an echo, the muted pressure around his own cock, and he groaned as he pulled away until just the soft, spongy head rested on his tongue. He tasted a fresh pulse of pre-come and had to swallow fast, his mouth watering generously.

 _Try the top left drawer of the desk,_ he thought, direct and loud, and Erik jolted. Charles sucked him down again, distracting himself, but he could still feel Erik reaching out across the room, finding the drawer pull, finding the tin inside. Then the vaseline smacked into his hand, and Erik laughed.

“I swear it’s for dry hands in the winter,” Charles said, pulling off and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, but Erik just smirked at him.

“I haven’t a single reason to believe that isn’t true,” he replied, and opened the tin. “Come here, Charles.”

Charles let Erik haul him back into the chair, and put his elbows on Erik’s shoulders as he straddled his lap. He rocked his hips, sliding their cocks together. Erik let out a harsh breath, and sent the tin down to the floor rather more roughly than he needed to. He gripped Charles’s hip tightly and tilted him up, pushing his slick fingers back and between his legs. Charles pressed his lips to Erik’s forehead, the closet piece of him he could find, and moaned at the first touch against his hole. Erik kissed his jaw and neck, stroking his thigh with the other hand, and slid one finger inside.

 _We need to be quick about it,_ he thought, clutching at Erik’s hair, _go faster, for God’s sake._

He could feel the thick wave of desire that washed through Erik, and it made his stomach clench in response. Erik added a second finger, stretching him open with the same determined precision as he did everything else. He could reach so deep, and his fingers were calloused in all the right places— ostensibly to fire a gun or wield a knife, but providentially also to press against Charles’s sweet spot with _just_ the right amount of pressure to make him squirm and ache for more.

The third finger was just teasing, and Charles groaned aloud— _enough, enough, Erik do it now, please—_

“Let me feel,” Erik demanded, biting at his collarbone and shoving his fingers in again, “please, let me feel it.”

Charles did, opening his mind and giving Erik his own pleasure, the stretch of his fingers, the thick, heavy pulse of his cock. Erik gasped, and in return Charles could feel, _hear_ , how badly he wanted to pull Charles into his lap, spit him on his cock and fuck him until he sobbed for it, until they were both drenched with sweat and too exhausted to move, and then maybe Erik would sleep without dreaming.

“What the _hell_ are you waiting for, then?” Charles demanded, lifting himself deliberately off Erik’s fingers. He used his grip on Erik’s hair to tilt his back and kissed him greedily, eating at his mouth until Erik moaned and clutched his hip, guided him down with one strong hand until his cock touched Charles’s entrance.

Charles bore down, taking Erik’s prick to the hilt in one movement, relishing the ache and fullness and the way Erik swore and thrust up to meet him. Then he pinned Erik’s hips with his knees and held him a moment, the two of them locked together, his arms around Erik’s neck and Erik’s around his waist, Erik’s cock so deep in him he thought he could feel it in his spine. His knees ached from being wedged so tightly against the chair, and his legs were prickling with sensation. Erik must have been able to feel that too, among everything, and he slid down in the chair a little. It freed Charles’s knees, but it also gave Erik more leverage to plant his bare feet on the rug and rock up into Charles’s body.

Bracing his hands on the back of the chair, Charles lifted himself to give Erik room, and through Erik’s eyes he could see what he looked like— debauched and pink-cheeked, gleaming with sweat in the warm room, his hair flopping in his face and covering his eyes, his cock bobbing neglected and leaking. He could see the wet shine of Erik’s cock sliding in and out of him, and could feel the sensation of it, tight and hot and so slick. Erik grit his teeth and thrust hard, jolting Charles, and it spurred him into motion.

Erik dragged him down for another kiss, fucking his mouth with his tongue the same way he was fucking his arse. He sucked on Charles’s lower lip, steadying him for a few long, slow thrusts, and then bit him sharply as he sped up again. Charles gripped the chair tightly, kissing back and letting his rising pleasure reverberate through both of them.

Suddenly he felt the brush of another consciousness nearby, and he slapped a hand down on Erik’s chest.

“Stop, stop,” he hissed, seizing him with his knees again, “Erik, for the love—“

Erik stopped, arms tight around Charles’s hips and shoulders, buried deep in Charles’s body. Charles could feel his confusion.

“There’s someone out there,” Charles whispered, and let go of the chair with the other hand to touch two fingers to his temple, trying to focus through the fog of lust. “Raven. It’s Raven. God almighty, what’s she doing awake?”

Erik lost interest instantly, and Charles felt the new idea blossoming in his mind.

“Erik, no,” he said urgently, but Erik was already moving again, rocking his hips slowly and dragging the head of his cock against Charles’s spot, teasing him. Charles’s attention wavered and sharpened again, and he said, “Erik! Be still!”

Raven opened the door to the study, blonde and lovely out of habit, and Charles was staring at her wide-eyed when she looked in their direction. Her gaze passed right over them, naked and exposed on the chair and for now cloaked by Charles’s power, and settled on the smoldering fire and the glasses of brandy left out.

“Charles?” Raven whispered, taking a step inside.

Erik sank his teeth into Charles’s shoulder and soothed the bite with his tongue. Charles swallowed hard and pushed him away with his free hand. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and kept his attention on Raven as she edged towards the fire. She was frowning, nose crinkled up, and Charles realized she could probably smell them. Christ.

A hand on his cock distracted him, nearly made him lose it, and Raven stopped dead. Hell. She’d probably felt him messing with her mind, attuned as she was to his presence even though he’d promised a long time ago not to read her. Erik chuckled softly, little more than a hiss of breath, and stroked Charles’s cock from root to tip, squeezing out a bead of pre-come and making him shudder. He was grinning like a shark, wicked and intent, and his hips had not stopped their low, inexorable grind, rubbing Charles in all the right ways inside.

“Oh for heaven’s sake, Charles,” Raven said sharply, and Charles refocused instantly, adrenaline spiking in his blood, along with the lust. No, she hadn’t seen them, but she sure as hell knew they were there. “You’re doing something you shouldn’t, aren’t you?”

Charles very carefully did not think anything beyond how totally and completely invisible they were; absolutely unseeable with just the right sort of pressure inside a mind. Raven could suspect all she wanted, but he was not going to scar her with this. The pleasure running through him was harder to ignore, harder to temper, especially with the way Erik was squirming under him, his cock thick and hard in Charles’s arse, refusing to let him forget. It was worse to project this, he thought, than be walked in on.

“I’ll just go,” she said, backing up again and looking at a spot somewhere to their left.

Erik released Charles’s cock only to lift his hand to his mouth and lick his thumb, and slide it in a slow, wet circle around the head. He had a passing fascination with Charles’s foreskin, and now as he closed his hand around Charles again he drew it up over the head and teased Charles’s slit with his blunt fingernail.

“Oh, god,” Raven said, startled into motion, “all right, sorry, I’ll just— right,” and she was gone, heavy paneled door closing with a dull thump behind her.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Charles groaned, cuffing Erik on the side of the head and grabbing a handful of his hair. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You’re charming when you’re enraged,” Erik said, kicking his hips up hard and making Charles yelp. Charles planted both his hands on Erik’s chest and ground down onto him, working his prick deep, and Erik moaned in appreciation. “Fuck, yes, that’s good.” He reached up with one hand and pulled Charles down, pressing their foreheads together, and Charles jerked with the sudden doubling of sensation, Erik’s pleasure feeding right into his own. Erik was close— shit, Erik was so close— the taunting working him up and the secondhand feeling of Charles’s strength making him crazy. Erik loved having a partner, a companion, as powerful as himself, and his regard for Charles was heady. Charles kissed him hard, uncoordinated, and gasped as another flash of premonition of what Erik was about to do popped into his mind— Charles on his back, on the rug, writhing under Erik as Erik fucked him into the floor— sweating and clawing at Erik’s back, holding them both in check until Erik was panting his name into his mouth.

Erik wrapped both arms around his body and lifted him from the chair, pushing them both up hard and tipping them over onto the floor. Charles held on, arms and legs and mouth, and grunted with the impact. Erik pulled back far enough to brace his elbows on the floor, and then he was driving into Charles brutally, slamming their hips together, fucking him so hard Charles barely had time to worry about rug burn on the small of his back. He locked his legs around Erik’s waist and his arms around his neck, and Erik huffed and strained, hips working hard and fast, shoulders gleaming with perspiration like he’d been dipped in gold.

“Don’t touch yourself,” Erik ordered, an inch from Charles’s face. His pupils were enormous, and his lips were red and swollen, and Charles kissed him again, assenting. He could feel Erik’s pleasure mounting, rising fast, and he wouldn’t need a hand on himself to get off. Erik knew it. Erik was going to fuck it right out of him, use his own orgasm as a catalyst. Fucking hell, he knew how Charles worked.

Charles moaned, helpless, almost unable to tell whose sensations were whose, only knowing that it felt so. Fucking. Good. Erik’s thrusts were growing erratic as he reached his peak, and through him Charles could feel the metal in the room trembling, humming under the pressure of his power. He sank his hands into Erik’s hair, holding tight, and dragged him down for a desperate kiss.

“Charles,” Erik gasped, and Charles groaned aloud as his pleasure peaked suddenly, rising so fast Charles thought he would drown in it. Erik’s eyes were closed, face slack with relief, and his orgasm was a bright wash of light that filled Charles’s mind and sent him over the edge. He shouted, back arching, and came between them, grinding back on Erik’s cock even as he spurted wetly all over his stomach.

Erik kissed his neck as he came down again, the presence of his mind receding, and Charles reached out for him, not yet ready to let him go. Erik smiled against his skin and returned, feeding him a little wave of smug satisfaction. He lifted his head to look Charles in the eye, and brushed an errant lock of hair off Charles’s forehead.

“Well,” he said, “that was exciting. You have been doing your own training after all.”

Charles let his head drop back onto the carpet, laughing, and rubbed a hand roughly through Erik’s hair. “Because god knows when we might need an invisible fuck,” he said.

“Could be any minute,” Erik agreed, kissing his cheek, and pulled away gently. He stood up, leaving Charles lying on the floor, and pulled on his shorts and undershirt. Charles groped for his pyjamas, fingers searching over the rug, and eventually he pushed himself to a sitting position. When he was dressed, but nowhere near decent, he pulled on his dressing gown and let Erik take him by the hand.

Normally this was when they would part ways, Charles retreating to his room and Erik to his, but Erik said, “Will you come with me, Charles?”

“If you insist,” Charles said, stifling a yawn. Erik’s exhaustion was bleeding into him, making him hazy.

"I do,” Erik said, and led him from the study.


End file.
